


✓ seen at 10:00 pm

by crescendonya



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, angsty af, suicide warning, this is so self indulgent im sorr y
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 22:29:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8465380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescendonya/pseuds/crescendonya
Summary: Yuuri gets jealous very, very easily. It's a funny coincidence that Viktor is completely oblivious.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [thanks natalie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4jAyZ4njHsc)

He wasn’t sure when it started.

 

When he was little, barely old enough to walk in a straight line, let alone old enough to make his own decisions, Yuuri had made up his mind that he had wanted to be an ice skater. He wasn’t sure why-- maybe it was the silent urging of his friend Yuuko, who had taken up the sport’s mantle since she was old enough to withstand a fall-- but he had a feeling in his small heart that that, and that alone, was what he was meant to do. 

 

It wasn’t as if he had an emotional attachment to the sport, though. He preferred to liken it to a partner assigned to you by a teacher. You’re drawn to them because you’re told to. There’s a bond that forms between you, yes, but it’s not the one that comes about because of affection or respect or anything like that. It’s a matter of efficiency. A forced union. 

 

Until he had seen Viktor Nikiforov, and what he was capable of, Yuuri hadn’t ever felt an emotional attachment to ice skating.

 

Or to another person, for that matter.

It was painfully obvious that Yuuri had a borderline obsession with his senior. It wasn’t enough that he plastered every poster in existence depicting Viktor on his bedroom walls (including one on the ceiling above his bed, so he could say goodnight); Yuuri had to know every little tidbit about him, from his favorite dog breed (poodle) to his blood type (which he never figured out). Maybe there was some part of his head that thought _hey, if you know so much about Viktor, maybe you’ll be more like him_. Perhaps the voice thought that some of Viktor’s talent would rub off on Yuuri, even though one had no idea the other existed. He found himself constantly thinking of Viktor.

 

As time went on, Yuuri began to retire some of the faded and scratched posters. He forgot the little details about Viktor that he, himself, was probably unaware of. He stopped watching clips from the most recent Grand Prix Final ten times a day. The burning fire of passion, the flame of determination and admiration that was so brightly entangled about his idol, subsided over time into mere embers. Viktor held a place in his subconscious, but he was eventually downgraded from the center of his universe to a smaller galaxy within it. 

 

His eyes were still red and itchy when he stood in the lobby of the prestigious skating rink, minutes after finishing his devastating performance at the Grand Prix. He was tired and hungry and he wanted nothing more than to go home and cry some more. 

 

When he saw Viktor, not as a collection of pixels but as a real, breathing being, Yuuri felt something stir deep within himself. It was a sort of pure, almost childlike affection that he thought was lost to adulthood, but never truly left. 

 

It was then, he thought, that his fire was lit anew. As the other skater left, leaving a trail of awestruck reporters in his wake, Yuuri stared at the floor in shock. All the emotions from his childhood came flooding back. He thought he had gotten over Viktor.

 

“I guess I haven’t,” he said softly.

* * *

Yuuri could pinpoint exactly when it started.

 

The day after Viktor had decided to coach him, on a chilly October morning, he noticed something that, in hindsight, should have been blatantly obvious.

 

Viktor Nikiforov couldn’t keep his big mouth shut.

 

He complimented everyone on practically anything. That, in and of itself, wasn’t a bad thing at all. That was just the way he was. _There’s nothing wrong with being kind,_ Yuuri thought. Except he wanted that kindness for himself. 

 

Neither guys nor girls were safe from Viktor’s scathingly sweet words. He winked at little old ladies and kissed the hands of fair maidens and took selfies with anyone that asked (and many who didn’t). He was sincere and honest and brought out the best in people, even if they felt like they were the worst. His sickeningly flirtatious attitude was partially the reason why he had such a large fanbase. 

 

Viktor was always kind to Yuuri, of course. He was supportive when he needed to be and distant when it was called for. There was nothing wrong with their relationship, at least not on his end. 

 

But Yuuri felt greedy. Every logical part of him said he shouldn’t be. It wasn’t like Viktor was _his_ , anyway. But he always had a warm glow in his eyes when he looked at Yuuri. His hands knew exactly what to do when Yuuri felt scared. 

 

He thought they had a connection of sorts. That’s the only way to describe it-- the blush in their cheeks whenever they spoke, the nervous butterflies he felt in his stomach every time he even thought of him. Yuuri didn’t know what it was, but it was special. He had never felt such warm, loving emotions towards another person besides his family. It felt nice. 

 

But the more he saw Viktor as he truly was-- a flighty playboy-- the more he realized what they had wasn’t special at all. Viktor had this kind of relationship with everyone, even if they had only spoken once or twice. He loved so deeply and sweetly and beautifully, like an ancient poem. But he loved everyone. 

 

And Yuuri couldn’t accept that.

* * *

“Yuuuuuuri! Time to get uuuuup!”

 

Viktor knocked loudly on Yuuri’s door. He looked out of place in the quiet, dreamy dawn that leaked through the windows. Dressed in sleek workout clothing, the finest beads of water still lingering from his shower, he looked ready to go for a morning run-- which was exactly what he meant to do. Yuuri had to be in perfect shape if he was going to live up to his full potential. 

 

Silence.

 

Viktor huffed. “Yuuuuuuuri, we gotta get going! The early bird gets the worm, you know!”

 

Nothing at all. Maybe he was having a good dream.

 

“Hm.” He pursed his lips. “I don’t want to wake him, but we really should be going… We’ll never finish the triathlon I planned at this rate…” he murmured quietly. In the weak sunlight, his dull gray hair shone as brightly as silver. “I guess… what’s the worst that could happen?”

 

Viktor reached for the door. 

 

“Well, maybe he’s naked…” he said.

 

The door slammed against the wall, cracking the brittle wood. 

 

“Yuuuuuri! It’s time to train!” Viktor sung. “We can’t let your wonderful potential go to--”

 

He froze, eyes wide. Suddenly, the cozy bedroom felt so much colder.

 

He was alone.

 

Viktor glanced quickly at Yuuri’s bed. It was neatly made, each corner perfectly folded. Even the pillows looked as if they had been fluffed. 

 

“Ha…” Viktor cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very small. “Hm… Maybe he’s already at the rink! Or maybe he started without me!” He laughed. “Oh, that Yuuri… What am I going to do with you…?”

 

A sheet of paper caught his eye as he turned to leave, heading out to the ice rink. Ordinarily, it wouldn’t have seemed too out of place on Yuuri’s dirty, messy desk-- except it was the only thing on it. Even his little sticky notes scribbled with program ideas had been scrapped. Viktor spied them lying torn and battered in the wastebasket-- but they mattered little to him now. He moved slowly towards the desk, as if he was stalking skittish prey. 

 

“Is this…a confession?” Viktor chuckled softly, fingers trembling. His face felt hot. “What else could he have left unsaid? W-why, Yuuri… you sly dog…”

 

He blinked. The words scribbled on the top of the note were hasty and hard to read, as if Yuuri was writing while he walked. Maybe he was in a hurry. 

 

“To… _mom?!_ ” he choked. “W-what is this…?!”

 

Viktor read quickly, muttering to himself, unaware that Yuuri’s family was still asleep. “Just wanted to say… blah blah blah… please keep my room clean… _there’s a leaky spot over the door…_ ” He huffed. “W-what is the meaning of this nonsense?! Yuuri!” 

 

In a flash of silver, he darted out the door and flew down the hallway. Paper lanterns and various knickknacks crinkled and crashed in his wake. “Where is he?! Why isn’t he ready for training?!” he snapped, his footsteps thundering in the sleepy house. His mind raced with horrible scenarios. What if Yuuri was on the run? What if he was a fugitive, and this was only a temporary safe-house while he gathered the strength to commit some heinous act? What if he had a terminal illness and with his final breaths he wrote his dying wish; to have a clean room in the afterlife? What if he had scribbled his last words and drowned in the hot springs? _What if Yuuri was--_

 

“Viktor…?”

 

He blinked. Before he knew it, Viktor had reached the door to the Katsuki household. His hand trembled over the doorknob. He realized he was panting.

 

Hiroko Katsuki yawned and adjusted her nightgown. She looked cheerful even though she was on the verge of falling asleep on her feet. “What are you doing, dearie?” she asked in a quiet voice.

 

Catching his breath, he pulled his hand away from the handle. His knees felt weak. Maybe he was more tired than he thought. “I’m... “ he swallowed, suddenly feeling foolish. “...I’m looking for Yuuri, miss Katsuki.”

 

She chuckled. “Really? All this ruckus for my little boy?” Hiroko let out another long, drawn-out yawn and rubbed her eyes. “Why didn’t you just call him, dearie?”

 

Viktor bit his tongue. _Idiot_. Why hadn’t he thought of that before?

 

“A-ah, my apologies, it was the… heat of the moment…” he stammered, looking at his shoes. “But do you know where he is? We were supposed to train early today.”

 

She suddenly looked very solemn, which was unusual for her. Her round eyes were unreadable. To Viktor, she almost looked sad.

 

“Oh, Viktor…” she sighed. “Don’t tell me you don’t know…?” A small, pained smile appeared at the edges of her lips. “Yuuri left for Detroit this morning. He wanted to train there for a little while... He said he needed some time alone.”

* * *

Yuuri’s phone lit the 24th row of the economy class cabin.

 

His newest message from Viktor read “HEY WHAT THE HELL”, followed by a string of angry emojis.

 

He sighed, took a long drink from his water bottle, and stared out the window. They hadn’t taken off yet. In the quiet predawn, he could see the outlines of thousands of people scrambling for their flights. 

 

“It’s a long story,” he texted back. His fingers felt like lead. He didn’t want to break the news this way-- he thought it was cliche-- but he didn’t think he could handle looking at Viktor’s face without changing his mind. 

 

Minutes passed slowly. The pilot was late, the intercom announced. Yuuri sighed. He just wanted to leave quickly before Viktor could track him down and get a seat on the next plane.

 

“Ha…” he smiled, looking at the pale pink sky, “that does sound like something he would do…”

 

Suddenly, his phone vibrated. He almost dropped it in surprise. 

 

“Well OBVIOUSLY you have some time to explain now, don’t you?” Viktor said. 

 

Yuuri bit his lip. God, he did not want to have this conversation.

 

“Taking off. TTYL.” 

 

Click. His phone, powered off, fell into the folds of the sweatshirt inside his carry-on. Yuuri laid his forehead in his hands and groaned. “Oh...my…” His voice caught in his throat, like it snagged on some memory he tried to erase. “...what… have I done…?”

 

Maybe this was a bad idea, he thought. The plane bustled with renewed spirit around him, but he wasn’t in the mood to notice. _No, this was a terrible idea. A catastrophic one. Goddamnit. I knew I should’ve just kept my mouth shut._

 

His face felt hot. Breathing heavily, like some feral animal, he pulled up his hood. _I’m such an idiot. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why couldn’t you just be grateful for once in your pathetic life? You had everything. Why would you even consider leaving? Why did I ever think this would end well?_

 

The lights above him shut off with a dull click. _I want to make the right decision for myself… and my own mental health…_ Yuuri pushed up his glasses, his hand catching on his wet cheek. _But… I think this is only gonna make it worse…_

 

When he looked out the window again, a gasp caught in his throat. They had taken off. 

 

The airport was quickly becoming a speck beneath them. To the right, flowing waves of cityscapes and eye-catching seas of light. To the left, he could faintly make out lithe birds flying past. Before he knew it, he’d be over shining seas, adrift in nothing but endless shades of aqua. He wasn’t in Japan anymore. 

 

“Ha…” Yuuri laughed. He shook his head slowly, like his thoughts were weighing him down. The heat in his cheeks had faded to a chilling, somber coldness. “I guess it’s too late to change my mind, huh…?”

* * *

“Okay, now you have to tell me.”

 

“Ack! Sorry, Viktor, the signal here’s pretty bad-- we’re breaking up--”

 

“I can hear you crinkling paper, Yuuri! Stop these shenanigans!”

 

Yuuri fell back onto his bed with a guttural sigh. He held his phone, cradled in a sleek new case, in one hand; a wrinkled sticky note was in the other. “Fine, fine, you got me.”

 

“I know you too well, Yuuri.”

 

Viktor pressed his cheek into the pillow. It smelled like Yuuri-- fragrant and soft, almost delicate. He heard children playing outside his room.

 

“Well,” Yuuri began, “to be honest, I don’t know if you know me at _all_ , actually.”

 

“Hm? What do you mean?”

 

He glanced out the window. Detroit’s looming downtown district stared back. “Um, well, Viktor,” he stammered, “what’s something you know about me? Something anyone else probably wouldn’t?”

 

“Ah!” Viktor rubbed his chin. “Well, for starters, I know your family owns a hot spring resort!”

 

“What a surprise,” Yuuri groaned. “Everyone knows that. Try again.”

 

“Hm… You love katsudon!” Viktor fluffed the pillow.

 

“Can you be serious for once in your life, Viktor?”

 

“I am being serious! You do love katsudon, don’t you…?”

 

“ _Yes, of course I do!_ ”

 

Viktor huffed. He laid his head back on the pillow and pouted. “Then what’s the issue?”

 

“Everyone knows that, Viktor!” Yuuri exclaimed angrily. He knew the hotel forbid excessive noise, but he couldn’t stop himself. “ _I want you to tell me one of my secrets_!” 

 

“Why would I know a secret of yours, Yuuri?” Viktor cocked his head. “Is it really a secret, then?”

 

“People share secrets with people they trust, Viktor. People they’re emotionally invested in, for better or worse.” Yuuri stared at the ceiling, bathed in the warm amber light of his bedside lamp. “Giving someone a secret is like moving them from the ‘friend’ slot to the ‘best friend’ slot.”

 

“I know this, Yuuri. I am no stranger to relationships, as you already know. Why is it such a big deal that you haven’t given any of your deepest secrets to me?”

 

“Because…” His voice came out hoarse. He hated how weak he sounded. “...because I have. I have told you my secrets. All of them.”

 

“Really? I don’t recall.”

 

“I’ve told you every deep-seated fear and every dark secret I have. You know literally all of my weaknesses, Viktor. At least, you should.” He forced himself to keep his breathing steady.

 

“Oh… Really? I apologize, I’m so forgetful these days…”

 

“ _No, you’re not!_ ”

 

Viktor stiffened. The air turned to ice, even though the windows let in sticky, hot air. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean…” He coughed. His face was hot, so hot, and his head ached like hell. “I… I just don’t think you wanted to remember, Viktor.”

 

“I’m still… very confused.”

 

“I don’t think you care about me at all. I’m pretty sure you d-didn’t even listen when I told you things I’d never tell anyone else.”

 

“Of course I care, Yuuri!”

 

“ _ **It sure as hell doesn’t seem like it, Viktor!**_ ”

 

Both ends were silent for a moment. Viktor thought he could hear heavy breathing on the other side.

 

“I...If you had bothered to listen to me before, Viktor,” Yuuri stuttered, “you’d know that I get jealous incredibly easily. I don’t try to, and I hate it, but I do.”

 

Viktor stared at the ceiling. There were little paper cranes hanging from strings.

 

“I told you because I trust you, okay?” He closed his eyes. “I respect you a lot, Viktor. So, so much. You’re the kind of person I’ve always tried to be, but never will. Until I saw you in person, I was convinced you were fake because you’re so _perfect_. I thought, ‘wow, a person so amazing can’t possibly exist in a world like this’. Everything you do, every jump and every axel... it’s flawless.

 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I’m not… a fantastic person in any regard, I think. I’m not special, I’m not talented, I’m not anything even remotely comparable to you. I’m just a fool that doesn’t know when to quit. I admire you so, so much more than you think because you’re so much better than me at everything.”

 

Someone was playing a slow, sad song outside the window. It sounded like it had been recorded long ago, when times were rough and happiness was a luxury as fine as silver. A voice was humming along to the depressing melody. Viktor realized it was himself.

 

“You treated me like I was your universe, Viktor. I usually hate attention, but I…” Yuuri bit his lip. He was so glad he couldn’t see Viktor’s face. “... I really liked it, you know. But that’s just how you are. You make everyone feel special. You have this... innate charisma that attracts people to you so easily and you pick them up and lift their mood so easily. Even a little smile could cure anyone of anything, I think. I loved that about you. I thought it was… so inspiring that you’re a figure of pure sunshine to so many people.”

 

He swallowed hard. His luxury suite suddenly felt very small. “But god, Viktor, it hurts so damn much. I… I want you to only look at me. I want to get all your happiness. I want your touch to belong to me. I want to be the only person you think about when you can’t sleep.”

 

Yuuri chuckled. He wiped away his tears with a sleeve. “B-but you can’t do that. And I can’t force you to.”

 

Viktor was silent.

 

“It’s not healthy to be so greedy. So that’s…that’s why I’m here.” He sighed. “I just... I need some time to distance myself from you, I guess. I don’t want to cause you any more trouble than I already have.

 

“Please, do your best to forget about me.” Yuuri whispered, smiling as tears ran down his face. He couldn’t stop them now.

 

A long, sad silence passed between them. The song played on. 

 

“...Yuuri?” Viktor asked slowly.

 

“...”

 

“....Y-yuuri…?” he murmured.

 

“...”

 

Yuuri hung up.

 

The song ended, and Viktor wasn't sure what to think.

* * *

“Breaking news; an up-and-coming ice skater has recently committed suicide in Detroit, Michigan,” a cheery voice intoned. “A worker discovered the body inside a hotel suite, hung above the bathtub, around ten o’clock last night. He was sent to the room when the victim failed to check-out on time. The local authorities are still investigating the incident.”

 

“Sounds like someone set the bar too high, am I right?” a male voice chimed in.

 

“Haha, good one,” the woman chuckled. “Now, onto the weather.”

* * *

“Yuuri?”

 

“Yuuri, there was an incident in Detroit yesterday. It sounds like it was at your hotel, too. Are you safe?”

 

“...Yuuri, you’ll come home soon, right? I want to see you again. Everyone else does, too! We want to have another little competition in Hasetsu before the main season starts. You better not be slacking off while I’m not there!”

 

“...Hey, are you there?”

 

“...”

 

“Ah… Yuuri… I…”

 

“...I…”

 

“...Shit. I royally messed this up, didn’t I? Ah… I suppose I usually do… so much for the ‘ray of sunshine’ thing, am I right? Ha ha…”

 

“...”

 

“...I love you, Yuuri. I love you so, so much…”

 

“...”

 

“...I’m so sorry.”


End file.
